


The things Lyle would do for a smoke...

by Sweetdeath (CherieCherrybomb)



Category: Gundam 00
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Smoking, Table Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-17 05:06:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherieCherrybomb/pseuds/Sweetdeath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just another sex fic. I wrote this for the Gundam 00 kinkmeme a while back. I think the request for masturbation involving cigarettes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The things Lyle would do for a smoke...

It wasn't very often when the two members of Kataron were able to get together like this. Klaus sat in the single room's chair, lighting up his second cigarette. Lyle was beside him, resting back against the small desk, half cigarette dangling from his lips. He felt as ease whenever he was able to be with Klaus, especially due to the fact he was able to smoke so freely around the other. The members of the Ptolemy, (or P-crew for short, ) always gave Lyle hell whenever he even thought of lighting a cigarette in the shower room or his own bedroom.

Part of the reason he wanted to smoke so much in his room is because that place stunk--- practically reeked of him--- his brother...his damn brother that he was so often compared to. Well, not by that stuck up cute professor Tieria. What a feisty one he was, giving Lyle shit, but never ever calling him Lockon. He was fine with that at least. He didn't want to be called Lockon....not by anyone really. That Kurdish kid was the first one to call him by that name, and it sent a small ping of pain through his heart.

"Tch..." Lyle snorted, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray by his companion.

Klaus knew that sound. It only came from the other when he was sexually frustrated or thinking of his brother. It wasn't the first time the 'Why am I always being compared to Lockon?' subject was brought up between them after all.

He felt reluctant to ask the other member what was wrong, so he just kept on smoking, even when Lyle made another sound of discomfort.

"What...?" he finally asked. Sometimes Lyle could be such a damn woman.

"Nothing-- I'm just fucking bored..." the pilot half lied, shifting again in place. He instinctively went to reach for another cigarette, but decided against it. "Fuck me on the table?"

"Not in the mood."

"You asshole! You're a bad liar." That, and Lyle was a little hurt Klaus could refuse him so easily.

"I'm not lying, " -- such a casual answer. Klaus took a drag from the cigarette, almost to the filter, then put it out in the ashtray.

Lyle narrowed his eyes. If the other thought he could refuse him so easily, he was wrong, damn wrong. "Mm, alright, " he answered, though he was not about to stand down. This was a battle -- at least in Lyle's mind -- and he was not going to lose. The only thing he'd lay down were his clothing, preferably beneath Klaus.

Klaus wasn't an idiot though. Lyle shrugging off sex, especially when the last time he remembered either of them getting laid was a few weeks ago, on a mission when the A-laws made a move against the middle east once again. Lyle needed a quickie after the mission was over. His body was sore and had some light bruising on it from a prior Gundam battle, but that didn't stop the green eyed pilot. He allowed Klaus to take him in the back of his brother's car-- which when Klaus thought about it in itself, was very odd-- though maybe Lyle got some kind of excitement from soiling his brother's precious black stallion left to him.

He was up to something.. That's for damn sure, and Klaus half prepared himself mentally to take whatever abuse the other Kataron member could throw his way. As alerted by Klaus' thoughts, Lyle leaned off the table to move around and behind Klaus, leaning down to breathe huskily into his ear. "I won't force you to do anything you don't want to..."

Klaus couldn't help but to close his eyes. That bastard knew better than anyone how to get his blood rushing to his head--- and we're not talking about the one that sat above his neck. All he could do was reply with a "Mm.." sound, just sitting there and taking it.

Lyle knew what to do. He didn't have to take Klaus at all to have the older man begging on all four. He slowly traced his tongue along the lower earlobe, then sat back up, moving back to the table to sit on it, one leg resting up, the other dangling off. Lyle was wearing his P-crew uniform, except with the jacket off. That thing got hot really fast-- so many damn layers.

He traced his hand down the form fitting shirt that clung to his lean muscled body, teasing himself by running his fingers over the spot where his very heated organ was growing a whole lot hotter.

Klaus continued to watch, almost memorized by these actions.

Lyle's gaze was intoxicating. Even though he had the body of a definite male, there was something almost angelic about the color of Lyle's eyes. They weren't a dark or light shade of green-- enhanced by how those lashes framed them. He had soft features, pouty lips almost, that curled in a devious smirk once he realized Klaus was getting hard just watching him.

Lyle leaned his head back to make a soft sound, squeezing the growing arousal beneath him. He whispered Klaus' name, shifting further back on the table just as the Kataron member reached out to touch him, fingers grazing his thigh.

"Now, now...," Lyle smirked deviously, proping his other leg up onto the table to basically spread them in a taunting manner, "You said you weren't in the mood."

All Klaus could do was make a low grunting sound. This bastard was doing it on purpose. And what could he do to stop him? Half of him didn't want to stop him. Lyle always had a way of building him up-- building up the sexual intensity until it exploded (in more ways than one).

"B-Bastard..."

"What was that?" Lyle forced back a laugh, feeling a bit heated by his own actions. He loved to tease Klaus like this, making the other watch him with such lust, such desire. // All you want is me, right..? Look at me for who I am-- not Neil Dylandy.// Lyle felt Klaus was probably the only person who saw him as not a twin, but as Lyle Dylandy, the cunning, yet sometimes too forward Irishman. He let out a sigh, finally fumbling to get the top button of his pants open, then his zipper down.

Klaus forced himself to sit there and watch further, his own hand idly brushing over the throbbing organ protruding from beneath the fabric of his pants.

Lyle began to sink down a bit, becoming lost in his own twisted world as he pulled out his erection, dripping and swollen with need, the blood leaving all sense from his head and traveling down. With a sudden jerk, Lyle cried out, half biting his lip to keep the sound down in such a small (but echo-inducing ) room.

Another quick flick of his wrist and he began to lay back onto the table, barely supporting his weight with his elbow, body twisted and face contorted with pleasure. "Ah.." he moaned softly, hand moving a bit faster.

"Don't you dare ---" Klaus warned, reaching over to grasp Lyle's thigh, causing the pilot to jump-- startled. He wanted to pull away, but Klaus' hand was warm and inviting. He only spread that leg further for his companion, laying completely back on the table as he got up his seat to yank the white and gray pants from his shuddering body.

At this point, Lyle was only dressed in his uniform top. Klaus had the kindness to pull off his boots in the process of getting the pants off -- (it was kind of a package deal . )

 

He took in the enticing image of the pilot before him, sprawled back on the table with his erection resting against his now wet inner thigh. Lyle looked delicious, almost about to burst with need. His cheeks were flushed, eyes half mast with a slight pleading in them. Klaus smirked and grasped both his ankles, pulling him closer until his back side hit Klaus' pelvis. He began to rock against him, teasing him through his clothes. "I suppose I'm in the mood now."

Lyle squirmed, raking his fingers through his hair with frustration. "Then do it... Do it---" he pleaded, watching Klaus reach down to get his pants undone.

Once Klaus was exposed, he gently brushed his fingers over Lyle's inner thigh once again, caressing the soft skin there, before prodding at his entrance. "It's beena while, I'd better prepare you so I don't hear you complaining."

"Heh-- so kind." Lyle responded, shuddering a bit as he felt something cold and sticky rubbing against him. Klaus always carried a small bottle of lubricant with him (strawberry flavored: Lyle's favorite) just in case. They were always on the run after all, so one can never been too sure. Travel packs-- whoever made those things are damn genuses.

A few moments later, Klaus' fingers began to slide inside of him. They were large, and long, but Lyle was used to them. Even after a few weeks without his lover, he stiffened, but slowly began to relax against the gentle movements. "Mm...Uh..."

Klaus watched Lyle's face. His eyes were closed, mouth parted to release those soft sounds that only aroused him further. After getting the other nice and loose, he slid his fingers back out, wiped them on his own pants and then held his erection at hand to prod against the wet entrance.

Lyle began to hiss as he was penetrated, but he forced himself to relax quickly so he didn't squeeze too hard. And with another shudder, Klaus was half way in, breathing heavily at the intensity they both missed so.

"Damn..." Klaus take in a sharp breath, gripping Lyle's slender hips for support. "You fucking bastard-- you really kept yourself nice and tight for me, didn't you?"

"Nn..! Damn it, don't talk and ruin the mood."

Klaus laughed softly. "Sorry," he whispered, pulling back a little, then pushing forward with his hips to rest fully inside the pilot's welcoming body.

Even though Lyle told the other to shut up, that didn't mean they couldn't be as loud as they wanted to. Once Klaus began to move inside him, he let out a cry, chest heaving with each timed movement, pushing his own hips up to meet Klaus'. "M-More...Faster---" he demanded, reaching down to stroke himself in the process, fingers slick with precum.

// Demanding little slut.// Klaus thought with a bit of irritation. He wasn't annoyed though-- Who the fuck could resist this body? Why the hell was he even thinking? God--!

The table began to shake and move beneath them. Klaus shifted to hover over Lyle's body, forcing himself deeper into the man, breathing heatedly into his ear as his body rheumatically moved. Lyle's hand kept brushing against his torso, soiling his shirt with his own fluids.

The pilot tensed, causing Klaus to move faster, even though his organ felt like it was being squeezed mercilessly within the warmth. "F-Fuck..." he spat out, indicating his climax was near.

"Ah--!" With a sudden jerk, Lyle felt himself release, his right hand gripping the edge of the table to keep himself from falling. His head spun, and before he could open his eyes, Klaus was burying his seed deep within him, beads of sweat visible on his face.

"F-Fuck...Nn..." he sighed, pulling out of Lyle's body to stand, though stumbling a bit from the after shock of his orgasm.

"Hah...hah..." Lyle was regaining his own momentum, but not forcing himself to sit up on the table just yet.

After a short few minutes, Klaus already had his pants fixed, lighting up that delicious after sex cigarette he craved after each session with Lyle.

"Fucker, " Lyle sat up finally, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Give me that..." he demanded, snatching the cigarette from Klaus' hand as it was offered to him. "Thanks though, " he took in a long, and much needed drag, "I really, really needed that..."

"You know-- it's how we work." Klaus pulled out a second cigarette for himself.

Lyle smiled. He liked how they worked.


End file.
